Contest, Anyone?

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insomniaplague's avatar
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Well, since my last contest turned out so nicely, I decided to host another one. Again, there will be prizes, places, and loving reception from me.

Just as in the last, there is a set of different prompts you may choose from below. I have provided the line(s) of a poem, two title-type phrases, a quote, and a complete sentence. You may enter only once. One prompt, one entry, one possible place. As in the last, judging will be done by me, and will be based on your originality, skill, overall effect, etc. You are free to interpret the prompt as you wish.

Prompts are as follows:

:bulletgreen: split-ends your talent/is pulling you apart*

:bulletgreen: The world is not a cold dead place

:bulletgreen: I filled the sea with dirt

:bulletgreen: "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
-Ernest Hemingway

:bulletgreen: I have a habit of losing pens and people I care about.

Prizes include:

:bulletblue: First place: 40 points, 10 favs from me, and 2 features.

:bulletred: Second place: 20 points, a feature, and 10 favs from me.

:bulletyellow: Third place: 10 points and 10 favs from me.

POST LINKS TO YOUR ENTRIES ON THIS JOURNAL. THANK YOU VERY KINDLY. All medias accepted. Contest ends July 5. Judging due July 10.

*This is TWO poetry lyrics of my own. Read it as:
split-ends your talent
is pulling you apart


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NOTICE: I will be at a camp from the 17-30 of June. So, I will be unable to update this contest for those two weeks.

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ENTRY ONE:
k e e p r u n n i n gVaguely noticing the passing
people who
move in slow-motion
past your emotions
You run on an endless track
Squinting at yourself in the mirror
past your split-ends your talent
is pulling you apart
You want to keep running
keep running
k e e p   r u n n i n g
until you can’t see yourself anymore
can’t see the girl tearing up her life
tearing up and dripping
salty drops onto the machine beneath your feet
You feel the pounding of your heart
and the panting of your breath
and the aching of your soul.
You want to run until you can’t feel anymore
Until you can’t be the person
that people don’t want you to be
The one who is smart and “pretty” but doesn’t have any friends
And isn’t happy.
You can sing, that’s what you can do
But you will ruin that too
Spilling your guts into the porcelain bowl
Whispering to it your secret shames
And self-hatred -
You are too hoarse to sing
And you are ripping your family to shreds,
each disorder and s
by :iconiwanttobeemmapeel:

ENTRY TWO:
i have a habitBoth call out desperately, “use me!”
For one, yes; the other, no.
by :iconithaswhatitisnt:

ENTRY THREE:

:thumb377806710: by :iconufo-crasher:

ENTRY FOUR:

i filled the sea with dirtThere is a melting of my heart
seeping into my veins
a sacrifice of my soul
burned with smut  
into the kitchen floor
you crushed me into a million different pieces
and scattered me out like breadcrumbs
I live in a suitcase
of black and white
i'm walking on eggshells
to the end of times
it seems as though i'm on my own
time transcends
& i clutch my suitcase
it seems i speak like water
all my words spill out
in a rush and they dry up
cause i'm a dried up sea
i crack up into pieces
and spread out in the wind
you weren't gazing
you didn't have eyes
you never saw
any of the times i cried
I filled the sea with dirt
to make me feel less lonely
by :iconkori-fuzy:

ENTRY FIVE:

I Threw Dirt Into The Sea    I used to love the sea. I loved the way it smelled and rolled up under my feet. I loved the creatures in it and the never-ending blue, blue waves. I loved the way you could always feel it when it was close to you, as if it were a living, breathing creature that called you closer and closer with each step you took. I loved the way that it could roar and scream in one of its rages; then turn into something so soft and gentle no one would ever dream of it being angry. I loved everything about the sea.
            In my whole life, I only loved one thing as much as the sea. One precious thing I could never bear to lose. And that one thing was you. You had never met the sea properly, so one day, when we were young, bored, and full of life and I longed to be around the sea, we both climbed into my old, beat-up 1956 Crown Victoria, covered in rust and pockmarks as it was, and we rode out to greet the sea. I ho
by :iconanonymouspoetgirl:

ENTRY SIX:

:thumb379460693: by :icona-lovely-anxiety:

ENTRY SEVEN:

Sit and bleedThere is nothing to writing
You just sit down and bleed
But what if veins run desert dry
A heart out of tears to cry
Touch of keys
A search for the words to put
The sudden sigh
Another ball of fury let fly
To the corner of the room
Where broken soldiers wait
Once it was so easy.
Their words burning
In time to the pounding in your ears
Just pulled the typewriter close
And spelled out all your fears
But now the silence mocks
(Not even broken by ticking)
From long hidden clocks
With no release
The pressure builds
Soon plates will shift
Then shoulders start to quake
Dam shall finally break
Eventually the sheet is marked.
Red rimmed eyes can barely see
Still they fill with hasty glee
For rain has come
Cleared the slate
Bring a burning desire
That suddenly cannot wait
Abruptly words start to spout
A desperate rush to type them out
To watch the ink bleed on pure white
It really is easy to write.
by :iconfoxofebony:

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MariaB9's avatar
[link] and here is my entry.